


Mauled

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Dog bite, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester is scared of dogs. But Brad reassures him there's no need. He's safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mauled

Chester hates dogs. Always has. It’s not that he was ever bitten; he just doesn’t like them, or what they’re capable of. He’s not scared of much, he tells Brad, so he’s allowed this one thing.

So when they move out, and Chester hears their new neighbour’s dog barking through their door he flinches, glares at Brad, “As if this place isn’t a shit hole already, I have to put up with that?”

The building is a shit hole, but the rent on their last apartment seemed to sky rocket when a new land-lord took over and neither of them could afford it. McJobs don’t pay all that well, it seems.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Brad says, “I promise.”

So Chester just sighs and walks into the empty apartment, arms wrapped tight around the box he is carrying, and ignores the angry noises from next door. There’s a concrete wall between them. It’s fine.

It doesn’t take long for them to settle in, despite Chester’s passive aggression which he takes out on the walls when he paints, stabbing them with the paint brush angrily. Christened it, of course, and when Brad took the skin of his neck between his teeth Chester’s mind flickered with images of blood, his throat ripped open by the dog next door as it barked and barked…

He’s heading downstairs for the mail on his way to work when his neighbour steps out. Can’t help but smile. He’s too polite. “Morning,” He says.

His neighbour smiles back, “Morning.”

“Um,” Chester begins, hovering beside the man awkwardly, “Can I just ask what kind of dog you have in there?”

The man gives him a look, his eyes mistrusting, “Yogi is a rottweiler,” he says, “Why?”

“Oh just curious,” Chester smiles, easily, but in his head he’s picturing family dogs turning on the toddler and mauling it to death. “Have a good day,” he says, hurries down the stairs to the mail box trying not to throw up his breakfast.

***

He loses his keys. He has to buzz for Brad to let him into the building after work and, when he gets upstairs, wait for him to finish getting dressed to let him into the apartment. It’s been a bad day. Every day is a bad day until he gets a new job, Chester thinks, but today was especially bad. And he’s never looked forward to a long bath then curling up in front of their forty dollar TV quite as much as he does now.

His neighbour’s front door opens and out comes the Yogi. And his owner. Chester cowers as the man locks the door and the dog stares at him, lips curling and growl rumbling from its chest. Chester forgets that dogs can smell fear, and that attack dogs thrive off of it.

He doesn’t have time to react when the dog lurches forward, tugging his lead from his owner’s hand and diving toward Chester. It growls and he jumps back, tripping and stumbling, allowing the dog time to sink its teeth into his calf. He screams and tries to jerk away, kicking his leg blindly in pain but the dog simply loosens its jaw, grabbing hold of his leg further up.

The pain is immense and he looses his footing, falling hard on his ass and the dog takes the chance to go for his throat. He throws his arm in front of his neck to protect himself and the dog grabs it. Chester screams, closes his eyes and tries desperately to get away from the teeth tearing his skin.

The owner banging frantically on Brad’s door and in between he’s shouting for the dog, calling him off, trying to grab his collar and tug him away. There’s blood, and Chester slides in it when he tries to push himself away.

He slips back, slamming his head into the floor. He must have been knocked out for a while, because when he comes to Brad is screaming hysterically.

And the dog goes for his throat.


End file.
